A Chapter by ~VertoAtrum~

A group of supernatural beings must keep the flow going, keeping the bloodline of a powerful being living, so they must wait for the command to find the human who carries the blood in their veins.


So bored. It’s so dull. What a perfectly imperfect day.

The rain drip-dropped in the most repetitive of patterns, flopping off the leaves, rolling down passing car’s windshields, speckling his face with very small slaps. Cold slaps.

Why do you stay here, Noah? What’s in it for you, buddy? Not like anybody cares if I’m here anyway. They pass on by, as they should. I’m nobody special. Don’t want to be, either. So go ahead, pass me by.

A breeze went through the trees in the park, forcing the vivid smell of wet earth into Noah’s nose. He crinkled his face, and put his nose against his hoodie sleeve, breathing in his own scent.

He threw his right leg over his left, and bounced his foot up and down.

A woman wearing athletic shorts and a sport’s top jogged closer to him from across the park. Her ponytail, which contained her cocoa-brown hair, bounced and swished, and a bead of sweat was running down her face. Or was that the rain?

As she passed by him, she adjusted her black ear buds. She glanced over at him.

He looked up blandly. She smiled, slightly. Not much.

Like you care.

He turned his glance down to his hand, picking a loose piece of skin off his finger.

The jogger disappeared in the fog. Her footsteps finally faded out after a few seconds.

I really f*****g hate people….




“You’re sure this time?”.

“Yes. Have I ever been incorrect?”.

“………..Where is he?”.




Noah sneezed.

F*****g rain, stinks like s**t. It just rained two days ago, we don’t need more.

He wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed.

Pulling out his bag, he shoved his hand into it. His hand closed around his MP3 player. He plugged in the headphones, but simply sat scrolling through the song list.

Why do none of these seem like something I want to hear? What’s wrong with me lately? Whatever, don’t care.

I want to hear.

Whoa dude, scared me there. Um, what do you wanna listen to? I don’t really give a s**t what, so pick something.

Something relaxing.


Noah put one of the ear buds in, and left the other on his shoulder.

Out of the ear buds flowed a gentle, Arabic instrumental. Just something he had listened to and enjoyed.

He sat there, swaying his head from side to side. A small grin came across his face. Music was the only thing that could make him smile.

This is wonderful. Beats listening to the rain and the honking cars.

Got that right. I don’t even remember where I found this song. But hey, who cares, right?

I don’t know. Hey, look, another person.

Greatttt. I really hate people, dude.

I know.

Indeed, a man was making his way up the stone path that weaved through the tall, fat trees. He was wearing a black hoodie, completely open in the front, and he wore no shirt underneath. His figure-fitting jeans were wet from the rain, and so were his shoes.

Peculiar outfit to wear whilst walking in the rain.

He looked over at Noah, his chest-length black hair sticking to his face from the moisture. His slender muscles pressed themselves together under his skin as he walked, his long legs making his stride quite ground-covering.

Noah raised his eyebrows slightly.

Why do people keep looking at me today?

They like to be reminded that they’re not the only person stupid enough to be outside while it’s rainy.

Gee, thanks.

The boy, who must have been Noah’s age, or at least very close to it, pushed his ebony hair out of his eyes. He was getting closer.

Noah changed to the next song he wanted to hear, trying not to pay attention to him.  

He turned to look across the park to his right side, and found himself looking at the black-haired boy, who had taken a seat next to him on the park bench.

The f**k….?

“Did I tell you that you could sit there?” Noah asked, his eyes narrowed with annoyance.

“No,” the guy said, his eyes, so brown they could be black, staring intently into Noah’s, “But I won’t be sitting for long”.

“Good, “ Noah said, “I don’t like people”.

“I’m not people, I’m a person” the boy said, with a chuckle.

Noah scoffed, and slung his other leg over this time.

“I really wish I could say this without it sounding strange, but it’s been too many years, too many times, and I realize by now that nobody gives a s**t if it’s weird or not, usually they won’t believe it anyway” the guy said, smirking.

Noah raised his eyebrows once more, and put the other ear bud into his ear.

Whatever. Get fucked, I’m not in the mood for talking.

With a sudden violent yank, the boy pulled his ear buds out of his ears.

“What the f**k, jackass!” Noah yelled getting to his feet.

“I hate people who won’t listen, who ignore somebody when they address them” the boy said, bearing his teeth in an almost carnivorous manner, “They piss me off.

“You will open your stupid ears and listen to me. I’ll keep it quick, wouldn’t want to lose your f*****g attention. I’ve been sent to tell you that in two weeks, your back will split open, you wings will come out, you’ll want to cry from the pain, and you will become the new Descent. You’re going to come with me and the other Searchers, and like a good boy you’ll accept your duty. Don’t like it? I’ll have fun watching you survive the experience without us”.

Noah threw back his head and laughed, “If I hadn’t seen this in ten different movies last week, I would be more likely to believe you. Person from secret organization coming to tell some random person that they’re ‘the chosen one’ and they must fulfill a prophecy, or whatever s**t. What are you, a drunk film director looking for a plot and testing it out? A druggie who’s tripping balls? No wings are coming out of my f*****g back. What am I, Archangel from X-Men? You’re on drugs, buddy”.

The boy’s eyes flashed, and he tilted his head inquisitively.

“How about I get Maritilda over here, so she can slap some sense into you?” the boy sneered. They had begun to circle each other slowly, like wolves. It seemed almost automatic to Noah, he had been in plenty of fights. He wasn’t worried, he almost always won.

“That your mommy?” Noah said, laughing, “Bring it, I’m not afraid of any woman”.

The boy spread his arms and bowed, smiling, “Your funeral. You’d better get with it, pal, I won’t let the Descendant rule as a whiny child”.

The boy turned around, back facing Noah, and started to fidget in his back pocket. He withdrew his hand, and Noah stepped back.

The boy raised his flick knife, the blade shot out of its crevice, and he held it to his arm. There was hardly any light in the park, yet the blade gleamed dangerously.

“Jesus f**k, what are you doing?!” Noah yelled, wishing he had a weapon of some sort. He patted his pockets hopefully, but nothing.

S**t, s**t, s**t, s**t. Why did I have to decide to go outside when the f*****g psychos are on the loose? Knife, sharp thing, anything, common! F**k….

Noah stepped back again, staring at the boy’s hand as it gripped the blade.

With no warning, the boy dug the blade into his forearm and flicked it backwards, leaving a thick red streak across his smooth skin.

Noah’s jaw dropped, and he stepped forward, “Dude, stop! What the f*****g Hell….?!”.

The boy grunted with pain, gritting his teeth. His back still turned, he took his injured arm and waved it in front of him, swerving it side to side. As he did, the blood from his wound hung in the air, suspended and glowing faintly. As he waved his arm, more specs of blood hovered, twisting and writhing into each other, around one another, stretching, elongating. The blood moved, on its own accord it seemed, creating a symbol that was so complex and detailed that it was hard to make out what it could be. Part of it looked like a bird, the other part looked like snakes. It pulsed, the raindrops falling onto it, and running off the sides.

The boy turned around after he had completed it, his eyes once again fixed on Noah’s. Noah, who had stopped in the middle of lunging to take the knife away, stood motionless.

What in the f**k……?!

“So, I’m just a druggie, am I?” the boy said, smiling gently. He showed Noah his arm. His mouth agape, Noah’s eyes fixed themselves on the boy’s arm, which was smooth and clean. Not a mark, scar, cut, or wound in sight.

Time stood still.

© 2013 ~VertoAtrum~

Author's Note

This is going to be a book with many short chapters, so yes, there won't be a lot of length to them. But I am going to try to keep it as suspenseful and intriguing as I can. Please let me know what you think of the details, the dialog, what strikes you as interesting.

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Added on August 29, 2013
Last Updated on September 9, 2013
Tags: descent group searching human an




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